Variables
by 14karatgold
Summary: In a mathematical function, there is only one x for every y. For Sam, this knowledge is ingrained into her very being, into everything she knows and clings to. But what if there was a y without an x? An effect without a cause? SJish, but it's Sam's story.
1. Chapter 1

Summary—For every _y _there is only one _x. _This, Sam has known since her earliest experiences with basic Algebra. But one day, the math turns twisted and she finds herself stuck with the sickening reality that the Universe doesn't revolve around just _x _and _y. _

Disclaimer—I'm just gonna stick with the generic "I don't claim the rights to Stargate" one, for now. This particular little plot, however, is the product of my own muse…as far as I know….

Rated T for reasons that I don't even know yet.

Romance/Mystery/Friendship/Angst

**Variables**

Prologue

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There was no cause for this, only an effect. Everything she had trusted in her whole life seemed to just vanish behind a veil of uncertainty and confusion.

Basic principle: Though a single cause can work multiple effects, for every effect, there is only one cause—For every _y_ there is only one _x._ It takes _x _to work out _y—_A cause to work out an effect.

But here, the _y _stood alone. An entity completely separated from a source—a cause.

_Impossible! _

Her whole life was based in math, and when everything else failed, the math came through for her.

Now even the math didn't even work out! What was she to do?

A shaky, frightened sigh escaped her mouth as she stared down at the little plus sign on the test.

_This is not happening._

Right before her transfer to Stargate Command too!

_This is _so_ not happening._

She took several breaths in and out before a trembling, lurching bubble forced its way up and out of her stomach.

She watched the last of her electric blue Popsicle spin down, down into the septic system before she said aloud:

"There's always a solution. There's always a solution," she muttered as a sort of mantra.

_But that's the thing, isn't it? _a nasty corner of her mind countered. _There's not _always _a solution._

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Spark of muse…

Ahhh. What a wonderful thing…

kt

A/N: This is not your cliché "Oh, Sam gets pregnant and somehow it's Jack's baby" story. In fact, (and I probably shouldn't tell you this...) it's not Jack's baby at all. It's a solely Sam story, but Jack's there anyway, for the occasional spark of comfort because I'm a sick, obsessive freak that loves SJ.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

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Good little soldier that she was, Captain Samantha Carter got on the plane to Denver on schedule with no to-do. She ascended the stairs to her small aircraft with a straight, calm face that told every offered hand to back off. She had never needed help with anything in her whole life, so why should she start now? If her father had taught her anything, it was how to be self-sufficient and resourceful…though it may not have been a conscious effort on his part.

No. She wouldn't ask for help, and nor would she give anyone reason to think that she needed any. She decided that if anyone asked, she would give an honest answer, but until then, she would keep her military-conditioned mouth shut.

The three-hour flight was a quiet and fairly smooth affair, which the captain supposed was fortunate, given her condition. She read from _Dune, _the novel she was currently trying to devour, and jotted down a few notes for her own, non-fiction work. Surely the Stargate Program would give her plenty of opportunity to expand on her knowledge of wormhole physics, as well as theoretical astrophysics. She hoped that, once finished, her book would become the leading manual on all physics, and her naturally ambitious nature would likely accomplish this goal as well.

Despite the enjoyment she was getting out of the book and its ingenious plot, she found herself getting rather restless. She detested all this sitting around and not doing something productive. With any luck, the plane would land within the hour and she could get to work immediately.

They crossed through a brief and shallow bout of turbulence, and no matter how minor it was, it sent waves of nausea through the captain's body. She laid one hand on her stomach, latched the other onto the armrest and willed herself to move through this short flight with no suspicious incidents.

She recalled the litany she had recently read in the book: _I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer…_ Her near-perfect memory recited every word of the litany flawlessly in her mind, and before she knew it, the short stretch of turbulence had passed and the nausea had faded away. She allowed herself a deep sigh of relief as a reward. After all, the last thing she wanted was an unnecessary trip to the infirmary upon arriving. A random course of vomiting aboard a plane was bound to bring about just that, and a lie about being susceptible to airsickness just wouldn't fly for an Air-Force captain.

She returned with irritation to her book, silently cursing the gastrula within her womb, for that was surely what it was at this point. A hollow collection of cells with three layers that would eventually become everything that makes up a human being…

She would be fascinated in the concept if only it wasn't her own gastrula that she had to study. She rather wished she'd taken that side-course in embryology at the Academy. Someone had once told her it was a captivating course.

She added a disdainful thought to this reminiscence: maybe if she had taken the course she would better understand how this strange "virgin conception" had occurred.

It was just so _improbable_, if not impossible.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" asked the escort officer across the aisle from her.

"Yes, thank you." She brushed off the concern without conscious thought and returned to the numbers coursing through her mind. All of these equations were useless, however, as she had no basis from which to start. The only time she could think of this sort of thing ever happening was when Jesus was born! Obviously she was most definitely _not _the Mother Mary, or else she would've considered the idea. On top of that, she would have most likely been thinking, _Oh no, not again._

But no. Poor Captain Carter was thinking, _Why? _for the very first time. Normally, in her line of work, the word 'why' was irrelevant, as it seemed to insist on the idea that humans can't solve things for themselves, and must so ask a higher power to do their thinking for them. Instead, she and her fellow scientists used the word 'how' which much better constituted the comforting idea that humans were in fact semi-intelligent beings capable of solving their own problems.

The only other time, she had ever asked the question 'Why?' was a date that coincided with the death of her mother. This was, of course, not a coincidence at all, but a deranged attempt to prove to the girl that 'why' and 'how' were two very different questions. Obviously it succeeded, and the good captain never again asked said question.

Until this moment.

"Why?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"What? Oh. Nothing. Sorry." She once more returned to her book and was once more interrupted.

"All passengers, we will be arriving at Denver International Airport shortly. Please prepare for arrival."

This was an unnecessary instruction for Captain Carter, for her body—well conditioned from long hours in the air—could feel the change in pressure as the plane slowly and subtly descended into DIA.

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_A/N—Her character may seem a little off, but I'm trying to picture the Carter that was in the beginning: feminist, strong, stubborn, overly ambitious, etc. I'm trying to recreate her from the beginning and control her evolution in a different series of events and circumstances. The differences along the way will only be subtle, but hopefully interesting._

_Oh, and I suppose I have to disclaim _Dune _now too. Ok. I own a copy, and I'm only throwing it in for entertainment purposes. I don't own the rights to _Dune _or anything related to it. _

_Thanks!_

_kt_


End file.
